The Dawn of Time
by AuTumns ShaDoW
Summary: Set after Deathly Hallows...
1. Chapter 1

**/n:** I own n characters they all belong to Joanna K. Rowling.

I don't know whether I should make this into a one-shot or not, so feedback's appreciated.

**Dedication:** I dedicate this story to a great fanfic pal of mine, ron.w. rules. You have been there for me countless times and this story goes in your favor! Haha! Luv ya gurl!

**The Dawn of Time**

For the first time in what seemed like decades, centuries, brilliant, beaming sunlight filtered the girl's dormitory. The kind rays fell upon the sleep-deprived, the restless, and the simply exhausted students who couldn't think more of a better way than to stay here and dream for endless hours after the Great War that had just passed—now spent on the students that had fought the hardest and braved the adventures. Such as one, with her two heroic, best friends.

Like Hermione Jean Granger.

From hours ago of victory, celebrating, and mourning for all those who had died as brave or sacrificed lives—the time had finally come to sleep, to dream, to bask in the painful and the joyful memories without shunning them out because of the hurt, or the guilt of being at final ease. It was these very specific things the whole Wizarding World was now doing; sleeping, mourning and celebrating for the upcoming days of peace when grief and misery passed over.

For now Hermione continued to lay there, sleepless, but not about to fall asleep to the nightmares that had taken place at Malfoy Manor. It had only been a day ago the real nightmare had taken place and she wasn't about to let it draw her into the willing hands of fear.

It was time fear came to an end.

Staring up at the wooden barracks of what once had been her sleeping residence in the girl's dormitory, she thought about Harry and Ron and how the Weaselys had been coping after Fred Weasely's death. It had been last night that the whole trio took Fred, Tonks and Lupin's body and buried it into the back gardens of the Burrow. There their graves would remain, nestled, beneath the numerous begonias from the sincere compliments of all who had attended the funeral...

" _Oh my baby, my p-poor baby!" Molly shrieked, her eyes red and puffy as she leaned against the sallow face of Arthur Weasely, his arm resting around George Weasely's shoulder whose eyes held the shattering grief of losing Fred._

" '_Ow tragic, p-poor F-Fred." Fleur was sobbing softly into Bill's shoulder whose eyes remained downcast, one arm stroking through the french girl's long, silvery-blonde mane._

_The two other redheads remained huddled together, Ginny under Harry's arm, while Percy and Charlie began their speech about their dear brother…_

" _He will never be forgotten," Percy had begun to say._

_But Hermione droned out the words, not wanting to believe Fred Weasely was really gone, that George no longer had his Twin. She was hoping this was all just a very bad dream and when she woke up she'd see Fred and George doing their usual antic of jokes emitting joyous laughter while they celebrated the winning of the War._

_But then she looked up at Ron and saw the tears tricking down from those dark, blue eyes and she knew that this was the reality, the sacrifice everyone had been willing to make to triumph over Lord Voldemort… _

Hermione had never been so proud of Ronald Bilius Weasely. The way he'd handled himself in terms of everything, the way he'd been willing to sacrifice himself for others who were too feeble or wounded to fight. How he'd helped carry the bodies of those who had died in battle to their families. Or the way he'd saved her life and had spent almost every minute lying beside her until she completely healed from Bellatrix Lestrange's: Cruciatus Curse.

But the one that really stuck out the most was the way he'd kissed her.

A smile creeped at the corners of her mouth as her fingertips brushed over the lips she'd been kissed by. Despite the mourning everyone was going through, Hermione saw hope for the future; a real life to finally live now that the time of Voldemort's reign was over.

" Knock, knock."

Hermione instantly sat up as a redheaded figure peeked into the doorway, then walked in her direction.

Ginny.

Ginny who looked more awake, fiery red hair swept into a ponytail, with brown eyes still carrying the grievance for her brother. A clean, light crisp sweater and a pair of jeans had replaced the clothes she'd worn in battle. Her dainty figure perched on the edge of the maroon comforters, as she sat down. " I didn't know if you'd be up so I checked first."

" Thanks, but there was no need. I've been up for hours."

Ginny's freckled nose, scrunched. " Not a wink of sleep?"

" A bit, but not as much as I could use."

" Well, I could come back later." Ginny started to get off the bed.

Hermione made a grab for her knee. " No, no. I'd rather come down anyway. Actually, now that you're here how's, Harry doin'?"

Ginny's eyes saddened. " He's coping. Just like the rest of us. 'Helping, Ron and the teachers clean up the debris and…everything else."

Hermione knew what everything else mean. More bodies. " Oh."

" But he looks a bit more rested than he was."

" Well that's good." Hermione said. Out of them all, Harry deserved sleep. Having been battling Lord Voldemort since his practical infancy—the one to finally defeat him after the terrible things the dark wizard had construed—he deserved it the most. Hermione knew that, she and Ron both knew their best friend deserved the 'world'. " So, are your Mum and Mr. Weasley helping then too?"

Ginny shook her head. " They went back home. Dad has a lot to sort out in the Ministry now that Kingsley's been appointed as the current Minister. And, Mum, just couldn't take it anymore. Bad memories." she added.

" Understandable. I'd probably be in the same state."

" Yes," Ginny sighed, looking away. " Mum isn't taking it too well so, Charlie, went to home to accompany her through our…loss." At the mention, abrupt tears filled Ginny's eyes.

" Oh, Ginny." Hermione instantly broke down with her and wrapped her arms around her friend. The two girls cried then, like the many times they had done already for all the losses the War had caused. Especially since Hermione had been the one to witness such a horrific event, to witness the instant death of Fred Weasely, to have seen the last joke besieged upon that freckled face in humor, there to be frozen for good—wasn't something she was likely to ever forget. But as she knew, losing a person that was made of your flesh and blood—a brother you had grown up with since infancy--had to be alot harder.

So the two friends just sat there, two brave souls who had survived, crying, sobbing, allowing the grief to pour out from them instead of bottling it into an emotionless façade. All the while, Hermione stroked the redhead's hair as Ginny only sobbed harder, the tears seeping through the thin threads of the tank top she'd borrowed from her close friend. Ginny Weasely, a girl who had been trying to remain composed for Harry's sake, which only now allowed herself to wallow in her misery.

Until almost a two hours passed, when eventually, the wracked sobs gradually softened into tiny sniffles. With both of their tear streaked faces, the girls finally pulled back from eachother, both sporting red, blotchy eyes, but even stronger.

With her nose stuffed from crying, Hermione retrieved the tissue box she had conjured last night off her nightstand and handed a handful to Ginny. She waited until they both calmed down before she spoke again." Well, we better get cleaned up before we head down there. Don't want the boys to worry n' all."

Ginny only nodded, following Hermione off the bed and into the bathroom where they cleaned their faces and blew into a few more tissues.

Hermione washed her face, scrubbing at the dirt that still stained her cheeks from the battle, washing it clean, before tying her hair into a loose knot, as Ginny left to retrieve some clothes for her. As soon as she came back, she handed Hermione a spotless white t-shirt, with a pair of jeans that were a little snug around the waist, in size. Looking up into the mirror, as she heard Ginny sniffling outside the door, two chocolate eyes reflected back at her, a sadness lingering in their dark depths. Yet there was defining strength there, hidden. She had the thin, pink, scar around her neck to prove she was strong. A fighter.

" Hermione, you almost done?" Ginny called from outside the door.

" Yeah," Hermione called. She looked back at the mirror. " I am."

--

It was hard, walking down the changing staircase, where chunks of pieces were still missing and rusted splotches of blood still coated a few stray areas. All around them, walls looked eroded or blasted out. Filch the Caretaker was back to hanging back portraits on the untouched walls, for once, not bickering about the two girls as they passed him. It seemed, he too, had been affected by the War and the losses. And now that Hermione looked harder, she saw his eyes too, were red and swollen.

Then she noticed who wasn't purring around his legs.

Mrs. Norris.

Hermione looked away. Miss Norris hadn't made it. For once, she felt sorry for the Caretaker since he'd treasured that cat for as long as she could remember. Though she had always hated the little bugger for always trailing her and her two friends in the past, Filch too, had something valuable taken from him. She felt a little better when Ginny squeezed her hand, giving her gratefulness that she had survived during the Great Battle. The redhead even made an effort to put a smile on. Even if it was watery, wane, it made Hermione feel thankful for the ones that had lived.

They continued walking through the castle, passing parents and citizens who didn't attend Hogwarts, saying their farewells to the teachers. And still, through more damaged parts of the castle—until they reached the Great Hall. The memory of Harry Potter dueling and triumphing over Lord Voldemort, forever to be remembered here, in this very place.

It was shocking to see the place back into formation besides the holes and dents in the wall. Other than that, the Enchanted Ceiling was glowing, bright as ever, as students, silent, began filling their plates up with food.

As soon as Hermione and Ginny entered, Luna came bounding up to them, eyes trying to be a bit cheerier than ones who weren't trying to hide the sadness at all. She too, was dressed in clean clothes. " We've all been waiting for you two to come down. Headmistress McGonagall wants us all to be well fed before we attend Snape's funeral."

" Funeral?" Ginny and Hermione asked together, bewildered.

Luna nodded, her radish earrings bobbing. " Yes, he was actually a good person. Weird how things can turn out sometimes, hm? It won't be a lot though, most people have gone home… But I told my Dad, I wanted to stay. Then we'll be heading off. Wonderful isn't it? We're going to go hunting for some Nargles. Just me and him. He said he's also sorry about your brother, Fred, too. A-About everything."

" He's already forgiven." Hermione said. " And we appreciate him, having him come to the funeral."

Luna smiled, small and nodded. Then she ushered them forwards, towards the one table that hadn't been damaged. One, where a few students who hadn't been ushered home, sat, from each house.

Hermione had the feeling the future was going to change.

" Hermione, Ginny." Neville patted a seat next to him, looking ragged, but heroic for his part in the battle.

" Gram, said I can stay for the funeral. After that , we're heading off. Going to visit Mum and Dad. But she's proud of me."

" That's great, Neville." Hermione praised, tiredly but sincere.

Ginny just nodded and Neville mouthed that he was sorry.

Hermione nodded and patted Ginny's head as she leaned against her shoulder.

" Where's, Harry?" Ginny asked Neville.

Neville grimaced, but said, " He's preparing for the funeral, him and Ron and the teachers. They should be coming in soon though, McGonagall wants us all up fed before we head home."

" Home," Ginny repeated. " How strange it's going to be…"

Neville gave Ginny a sympathetic look. Then his dark eyes flicked to Hermione, " So, since you lot were gone this whole year, you think you'll come back to finish out the term?"

Hermione thought about it. " Yes, most likely I will."

Neville beamed, still a bit solemn. " I am. My Grams already said she'd allow it."

" Neville, I'd be honored to have you as a classmate next year."

" As will I." Dean Thomas clamped a dark hand on Neville's shoulder that wasn't injured, as he appeared from Ginny's side. A few gashes severed his left cheek. Wounds from bravery. " I'm coming back next year, no matter what."

" You can coun' me in too. Someone has to, for the students that didn't make it." Seamus suddenly took the bench across from them, shamrock eyes saddened, but serious.

Hermione instantly felt a rush of affection toward all her classmates who were heroes in their own way.

" You know I will." Luna chimed.

" And me."

" And me." Chorused a bunch of other students from their house.

" You know I will, for Fred…"

Hermione looked up at the familiar voice, instantly locking gazes with a pair of dark blue eyes that mirrored Ginny's sadness.

Ron.

" Is she okay?" Ron's eyes had finally torn away from Hermione's to look at his sister who was…sleeping, against her shoulder. His red hair was tousled, as if he too hadn't gotten much sleep. His jeans looked tattered, shirt worn.

Bill and Harry came from behind him then. The two looked at the girls and Hermione noticed Harry's emerald eyes flicker towards Ginny, jet black hair still in a dirtied disarray. It looked as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep yet " Is she…sleeping?" he finally asked, the rings beneath his eyes beginning to show.

" Poor thing is. I'll carry her up." Bill offered." I sent Fleur, to the Burrow to attend to Mum. She must be taking it hard too. Little sister." Bill started to move towards Ginny then, the light from the ceiling illuminating his battle wounds form Greyback, a few strands of red hanging loose from his ponytail.

" No," Harry suddenly extracted a hand to block him. Then his emerald eyes flickered to Ginny. " I'll take her. Go to, Mrs. Weasely, Bill, you've done all you've can to help. Besides, I think Percy needs you there and Fleur."

Bill looked reluctant, but then he nodded, stern. " 'Awright, but give me a calling if you need me at all."

Harry nodded, " I will."

They all watched Bill go before Harry turned back to Ginny. Hermione helped lift a bit of the redhead's weight with Ron, as they hoisted her into Harry's arms. " Tread light on her feelings, Harry, she's been through just as much as you have."

Harry nodded and looked at the sleeping girl in his arms before he looked back at them. " Thanks guys. Ron." he nodded.

They returned the gesture before they watched their friend go, ignoring the instant burst of chatter around them. Having been best friends with the Boy Who Lived for many years, it seemed that both friends wished for the same thing. That once all this was over, Harry would be able to gather the fragmented pieces of his life, to make somewhat of a future for himself. A future and family even if that part, included Ginny. It seemed an almost possible fact now, and none, Ron no longer took with discretion since he understood.

Now that Neville and the rest were warped into an intense conversation with other houses, they didn't see Ron suddenly grasp Hermione's hand, hesitant, though firmly.

Hermione slightly surprised, looked from their entwined hands, back up at Ron.

Ron obviously saw the questioning surprise in her eyes.

Neither spoke for a minute though.

Then Hermione said, " I'm going to be the one to talk, right?"

" Not here." Without a word more Ron pulled Hermione to their feet. Together, they walked out of the Great Hall…

Ron did not stop until him and Hermione came to the willow tree they had sat by many afternoons ago in happier times. Once he settled himself, he lightly tugged on Hermione's hand.

Hermione obliged, settling herself next to him up against the bark of the tree. She closed her eyes briefly and thought about the last time she could remember being here, like this.

" What are you…thinking about?" Ron whispered a few minutes later.

Hermione opened her eyes and sighed. " The last time I can remember being down here, like this."

Ron didn't answer right away. His hand swiftly left Hermione's and his strong arms wrapped around his legs. " You can't, can you?"

Hermione sighed. " Of course not. Can you?"

"…"

" Ron?"

"…Yeah?"

Hermione couldn't believe she was saying this. But now, she was starting to grow a bit anxious after this long silence. " Are you…?"

"…What?"

" Are you beginning to," Hermione swallowed hard, before she finished. " Regret what we…?"

Ron's dark blue eyes suddenly locked with her's. " Are you?"

" Are you?" she retorted, the hurt evident.

Ron remained mute.

Angry tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and she was surprised since her body had been incapable of producing such anger since the War. It was a familiar emotion she had only felt once, when Ron had asked her to the Yule Ball as a last resort. And the emotion burned…_rejection. _Hermione couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe after everything they had gone through, that Ron would still be…?

She stood up, trying to hide the bitter resentment she felt. " Clearly, I've answered my own question." She started to walk away.

" Hermione!"

A firm hand suddenly whirled Hermione around.

A pair of frustrated eyes greeted her beneath a cool blue. " Hermione—"

" No!" Hermione held up a hand , a tear escaping. " I get it Ronald. We aren't anything more to each other are we? It's how it's always been and always _will_. And quite frankly, I'm tired of this battle. So, maybe it's time we move on."

Ron didn't let go. He was breathing now, hard. " So…that's how you feel?"

" Ron…"

" Is it?"

Hermione looked down.

Ron's pressure on her wrist, increased a bit firmer. " Is…it…? Hermione, I need to know…"

Hermione looked back and simply stared for a long time, into those blue eyes trying to mask what she saw as…hurt? " No…" she finally whispered. There was no point in lying. If her feelings got crushed on because of her confession then she would finish this with a bit of dignity.

" Hermione," his voice cracked, " I don't know how or what I can say to express these…" he stuttered. " Feelings, I have had for you, for the bloody longest time. Right now, I don't think I'm capable of anything…Nothing makes sense…Except you…"

An immediate shattering crossed his face.

Hermione could feel her defenses growing weak now. She opened her mouth to protest, but Ron held up one hand to silence her. He continued. " You terrify me, Hermione. These feelings, their just, blimey, everywhere. But…I do know that I… need you. So… much that I sometimes…don't know how to handle it. That…that kiss…"

" Meant…something. More?" Hermione decided to intervene since Ron looked so miserable yet frustrated at trying to get these words out.

Ron let out a whoosh of breath, " Right. Yeah."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. But she took a step closer towards him.

" And, well," he rambled on. " I din't really…expect—"

" Ron?"

" Yeah?"

" Shut up."

And then Hermione did something she had only done once. She kissed him. Fiercely, softly, urgently, and Ron responded with just as much of enthusiasm, if not more. Because it meant more than just a kiss. It was a kiss of the impasse of friendship into something completely new; something neither knew what was going to happen next. It was hints of desire in the little touches that'd intensified into something even more…_loving._

Ron's hands trailed down to rest on Hermione's waist. Hermione's hands wrapped around Ron's neck pulling if more, closer. Body against body. Kiss for kiss. Pain and love. Desire and want. It was all combined into everything they had ever gone through, the tension, the arguments, the adventures both had encountered. It was the War, the chance when Ron had almost lost Hermione…

And their first kiss which had been during the battle.

Except everything, was combined into this second kiss.

The second strongest.

When Hermione and Ron finally broke apart, they both knew they had crossed a boundary neither could return back from now. Things had changed; too much had gone on to go back to the way things were. And now they would mourn with the rest of their friends, together and still brave the adventures that life brought next. The difference was now they had the rest of their lives to figure what the future was going to bring. Possibly…together.

The difference…?

This time, they were finally ready for it.

Ready for dawning of a new era.

A time to weep.

A time to cherish. A time for peace.

A time to love.

And live.

_~&~_

~ _* Fight, love, give*_~

_grieve, peace, cherish_

_*Live*_


	2. Chapter 2

**Waking Up**

"Can Kreacher do anything else for, Harry Potter, sire?"

"No, Kreacher, you've done enough, thank you."

With a 'pop' Kreacher dispersed, leaving a silver platter for Harry he had transported from the kitchens. Since Harry treated Kreacher better, Kreacher didn't seem to complain or grumble as much as he used to. If anything he was starting to actually be…decent, if Harry could say the words without adding ridiculous. He couldn't say Kreacher was starting to warm up to him, yet. However, he had taken the trouble to bring this sandwich for Ginny. So maybe, just maybe, now that Voldemort was gone there would be no need for Kreacher to remain so imprudent. Harry, who had freed Dobby, would give him that freedom if he so wished now that nothing would become of it. He didn't need a houself to take care of him, or his…

Family?

Somehow, the word seemed too good to be true right now, but maybe someday. Maybe someday Harry just might have a life of his own. The only question that would probably stick to him for the remainder of the time he spent in this very room, was…who with? As if that question had been bugging him ever since he'd come up here, alone…Harry looked down at Ginny.

Ginny Weasely; his girlfriend of last year, the girl that had given him an extra 'special' birthday present which had turned out to be quite a fiercesome kiss. The girl he'd protected and once saved in the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny, whose brother was his best friend…

Harry stared at her, reaching a hand to brush a red strand caught at the corner of her mouth, her amber lashes brushing her cheek as she twitched in her sleep.

Harry grimaced. She had been the very thing he'd been so worried about losing since Voldemort could've used her to get to him. Therefore, he had broken up with her for her own benefit, distanced himself as much as he could from her. Yet, she had risked her life along with Neville, Luna, and many others just to help him out, had stood her ground as a loyalist, and retrained herself from crying at the Burrow. Moreover, out of everything she'd gone through she'd still enough compassion—after everything he'd hurt her with—to hold him...

And for what, him? Did he even deserve such a fiercely brave, caring…woman? Because that was what she was. Ginny was no longer a girl, Harry had seen that. Sooner or later, he'd have to make the choice: whether to let her go or work out this relationship between them.

Ginny was on the verge of adulthood and when the time came for school to get out and her to begin her own life—evidentially—she'd give up on waiting around for him, eventually. Like all the other Weasely's she also had a future.

'… It will be her choice'. Harry decided, and whatever she picked, he wouldn't hold it against her.

0000

"… And he will be remembered at, Hogwarts…"

Ron continued to stroke Hermione's hair up front. Seated in various white benches around them for Snape's Funeral was: Hagrid, Luna, her father Xphilineus Lovegood, Neville, his grandmother, students left from Hogwarts, the ghosts like Nearly Headless Nick, all the Professors, Madame Pomfrey, Ministry officials, and loyal subjects to Dumbledore including his brother Aberforth, sitting there, simply listening, some sniffling in conjured tissues.

McGonagall, dressed in suitable black robes for the occasion, continued her speech of how Snape was and is a teacher here at Hogwarts nobody could ever forget…

"Hermione, look." Ron silently pointed a finger over a ragged silver-blonde haired man, Lucius and Narcissa there, beside him.

Draco Malfoy.

"He has just as much right as we do, Ron." Hermione sniffled, leaning her head back unto Ron's shoulder as McGonagall continued…

Finally, her pointed glasses looked up as she called, "I believe as condolence, Ronald Weasely would like to say something?"

Hermione looked up at Ron, urging him forward. "Go Ron, remember what Harry said."

Ron's jaw clenched. Harry had said to them that he'd already had his time with Snape and it was something he'd rather not relive; he wanted to remember him the way he had. Therefore, as a favor, he'd asked Ron earlier if he could say something for him.

Ron had agreed. "Right." he said, stiff. He let go of Hermione's hand to go stand up in front.

McGonagall moved aside so he could take the stand.

Ron fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something no one could understand. His ears turned a bright shade of red.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Here, Mr. Weasely." McGonagall quickly placed her wand at his throat.

Ron's voice soundly grew two octaves higher. The crowd covered their ears before Ron finally got ahold of things. "Right," he cleared his throat. "S-Sorry 'bout that."

"C'mon Ron," Hermione smiled, watery, but with encouragement. "You can do this."

Ron's dark blue eyes latched unto her's. Her smile seemed to give him encouragement because he looked up at the crowd, a bit braver.

Finally, he said, "Right, uh, many of you knew Snape …'was our Professor who… all of us Gryffindors thought was a right foul git. No, more like big-nosed pompous git…"

Hermione's brown eyes suddenly widened. "What are you doing?!" she whispered, shrill.

However, Ron continued. "Nobody…uh… liked him, not even me. But…but… that was a mistake, because in the end, he wasn't the greasy-haired sloth we'd made him out to be... He was the opposite."

Hermione looked up from her hands.

Ron went on, gaining courage. "As all of you know, Harry was the one who defeated Voldemort, 'saw Snape die. But the truth he wanted me to tell you is, that Snape had been loyal to Dumbledore since the beginning. Ya see… the whole time he had been a spy for Dumbledore… He got… information for the Order. When he uh, he skewered my brother's ear I found out it was an accident. He had been actually trying to save… us. Riskin' his own skin. When he turned to Dumbledore, he r-remained true to his word. So you see, Snape wasn't all bad. He was actually good. And though he wasn't the most pleasant teacher we ever had he was…a true hero. And if there's one thing I learned from him, it's ah, what my girlfriend (he smiled, sheepish) Hermione, would say as…err never judge a book by its cover. So…I know Harry our mate, would appreciate you all comin'. So thanks."

Hermione was the first one that shot out of her seat, tears streaming down her face as she clapped.

The crowd followed next as Ron stepped down from the marble podium, immediately receiving handshakes here and there. As he looked up, he caught Hermione's awed eyes and he grinned, sheepish.

Hermione had never been so proud of him. As he finally reached her, she said. "Fred would be so proud of you."

Ron flinched. "Yeah, I know. I think Lupin and Tonks would be too."

Hermione nodded, "I know they would. What you said was the truth."

"Ron!"

Two, pale arms wrapped them both in a hug. When the person pulled back, their sky blue eyes were filled of tears. Luna Lovegood. "That was great what you said, Ron. I have to go but I'm coming back next year."

"Yes, being in this school has truly transpired me. I'd be hundred percent thrilled to have you come back next year, my Luna. This school is truly a piece of work. Ron, Hermione." He shook their hands. "I am honored to know you two, and Harry Potter. I give my condolences to you all. Feel free to come visit us over the summer, then you can come scouting with us and truly see the spectacular life-style of Nargles. 'Course, I plan to have the house back in ship-shape. Thank Merlin there is such things as magic, eh?"

Ron only nodded, uncertain. "Right, well, I dunno… but we'll try."

"Excellent!" he beamed, "Hope to see you all soon!" Then he was off, Luna beginning to follow as she waved one last time.

"Hermione, Ron." Neville came running up to them. "I jus' want to say I'll miss you guys. And 'hope to see you next year. Grams is waiting on the other side now, but I told her I wanted to say goodbye first."

Hermione let go of Ron's arm to hug him. "We'll miss you, Neville. And I'm sure you'll have a great summer."

"Yeah," he shrugged. Then he looked at Ron. "Grams wants me to shave this, but I dunno I'm thinking about growing it out just a bit, what'd you think?" He scratched the dark, short hair beginning to sprout around his mouth.

"Uh." Ron shrugged. "Depends I guess."

"Right." Neville nodded. "Well I still have to go see Luna. Catch up with you guys next year kaye? Bye!"

"Bye." They waved until he vanished into the distance.

"Luna, huh?" Hermione murmured as they turned around. "Interesting."

"Quite." Ron chuckled, solemn.

Hermione didn't have the heart to slug him; she slipped her hand in his. "Quite."

For the rest of the day as the funeral finally ended and Snape was buried, they were instantly swarmed.

Groups of students, Ministry officials, townspeople, repeated the same thing many others had said before them. However, when they finally began to draw away from Ron and Hermione, an unexpected crowd started flashing bulbs nearly leaving them blind. Circled, reporters from Witch Weekly, The Dailey Prophet, magazines neither had heard before, asked endless questions—that when it came to the final draw of evening (when McGonagall and Aberforth finally shooed them away)—they were completely wiped.

"Ugh, my head won't stop spinning." Hermione groaned her and Ron finally getting the space they'd craved, ever since the first two reporters. By the end of the evening when it was just getting too chaotic for them, McGonagall had saved them. She had told them they were to go up to the Common Room and she would make sure nobody was going to bug them.

"You think that's bad. My bloody eyes won't stop seeing purple spots…Of light bulbs."

"I've just heard. It's chaotic out there."

Hermione looked at the Portrait of the Fat Lady, wearily as they entered the seventh floor.

"Oh, very well." She hurriedly flipped the portrait open, allowing them in. She didn't say a word more.

For once, they both were grateful.

0000

"Harry?"

Ginny suddenly woke to dark figure hovering over her, nibbling on a bit of a sandwich. She sat up a bit straighter, pulling herself out of her sleeping position.

The room was beginning to grow dark.

"Gin?"

Emerald eyes suddenly locked with her's. "Sorry, din' mean to wake you."

Ginny yawned. "It's fine. So I guess I fell asleep on Hermione's shoulder, right?"

Harry nodded.

Ginny noticed he was shaking. "Harry…?"

" It's nuthin'…'Just used to never staying in a spot for so long I guess."

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "Traveling can do that to you. Especially you guys, you've been through so much."

"So have you." he murmured.

Ginny sat up straighter. "Is…is that what this is really about?"

Harry remained silent. He sighed and got off the bed.

Ginny followed. "Harry," she called out a little louder. She laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "For Merlin sakes, look at me."

Harry did.

Ginny forced herself closer.

Harry held a hand in front of him. "Don't, you need to have a clear head about this. Not like this."

"A clear head about what?"

Harry caught the edge to her words. "About this…Gin. Bout us."

"What about us?"

Harry sighed. "I have risked your life so many times. I don't intend to again. Last year…before we broke up, I kept thinking about what I would do… if I lost you."

"And you think that's going to happen."

"I dunno."

Ginny grasped Harry's shoulder, firm. "Harry, the war is over. I am still living; you are still living. We have nothing to hide from anymore. This," she patted her hand over her heart, her voice beginning to shake, "hasn't changed. _Won't_."

GIN, HARRY? WINKY'S DOWN HERE!"

"It's Ron and Hermione." Harry whispered.

Ginny grabbed his hand as he started to pull away. "Harry I think I _deserve_ the right to know what your feeling."

Harry looked at her, hard. "I think this summer will help us figure stuff out, Gin, like Ron and Hermione. What I don't want is for you to decide right now if you want to be with me. Just think about it over the summer. And remember I'm not going to treat you any differently. Kaye?"

Ginny nodded, but her expression was stubborn. "It's not going to change." To prove it, she grabbed Harry as he started to pull away again, hastily pecking him on the cheek. "Was…that okay, though?"

Harry looked at her for a moment. Then he reached for her hand and squeezed. "'Course."

Ginny smiled, small but assured. Whether Harry knew it or not she wasn't about to change her mind. She knew whom she wanted to be with and wanted to spend the rest of her live with. Nevertheless, she allowed Harry to lead her out of the guy's dorm and down the stairs…

0000

"….So Winky, miss, and all other house elves wanted me to bring you t-his. It is h-horrible w-w-what, what…"

Hermione hastily laid a hand upon the elf's scrawny shoulders, her big orbs puffy and red-eyed and her toga ratted with snot. "Thank you for the thought, Winky. Really, we truly appreciate the kind gesture."

Winky sniffled in response.

Ron looked at the food, looking as if he were fighting whether to eat it or not. Alternatively, whether it would be disrespectful. But even Hermione's mouth couldn't help but water at the sight of it. It was a dessert of some kind. Rich dark, chocolate tortch`e cake, layered in whipped cream charred with strawberries. Shined, crystal goblets filled of sparkling cider were lined along golden plates, set, on the wooden table that had been set in front of the fire with four chairs. All, from the compliments of Winky and the house-elves.

"Whoa, who…?" Ginny began to say as her and Harry descended the last steps.

But Hermione cut her off, "Winky and the house-elves are paying their respects, I guess. In memory of…Dobby. Which," she turned to Winky, "we would be pleased to have you with us for."

"Oh, no." Winky shook her head. "Winky was just here to bring this, miss. Headmistress McGonagall needs Winky and the houselves for work."

"Okay, but isn't there..." Winky was gone before Hermione finished. She quickly took her leave with a bow so low the nose touched the floors. Then with a 'pop' she had gone.

They all looked at each other as if not knowing what to do.

Ginny was the brave one who made the first move. They watched her settle into a seat before she took a slice of the cake, setting it unto the plate.

She took a bite.

"Mmm…" she gradually said as they waited. "You guys_ have_ to try this."

The three looked at each other again, and then decided to sit with her.

As soon as Hermione took a bite, she agreed with Ginny.

Ron and Harry soon followed after even if they didn't want to show how delicious it tasted.

"Better than treacle tart." Ginny said.

"I second that." Hermione replied.

The boys said nothing.

The girls understood. They too weren't exactly as thrilled by the meal as they should be. Nevertheless, they still had so much to deal with, like Mrs. Weasely, publicity, and the deaths of those they still grieved over. And so, Hermione did the very thing that felt suitable to their first celebration even if it wasn't the most enthusiastic. She grabbed the crystal goblet filled of sparkling cider and raised it into the air. "As a spokes person and as myself, a survivor from the War, these cheers goes out to Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Snape, and all those who died as brave."

Ginny motioned that, she raised her glass.

The boys soon followed.

"For those heroes."

"For those heroes." They all chorused.

Their glasses clinked together as they each took a sip.

Each sip, a symbol of different things.

The last?

The future peace that would soon come, for them all.

.


End file.
